


King of Bad Things

by TheBeeThatHums



Series: Supernatural One Shots [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Annoyed Crowley, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slight Protective Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 21:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17836535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeeThatHums/pseuds/TheBeeThatHums
Summary: You're Drunk and lost... solution? Call Crowley to help out.





	King of Bad Things

You were properly drunk.

More so than you had been in a good while… and you couldn’t remember exactly where you’d come from.

It was a smaller town, but all the motels seemed to look the same and your ace in the pocket for finding the right one, the Impala, was nowhere to be seen in any of the motel lots… or rather it wasn’t where your drunk mind concluded it should be. So save wandering around yelling Sam or Dean until they eventually found you, it seemed to you there was only one option- procure outside help.

You stumbled a few feet into the open crossroads near the bar, “burying” your pouch of items by throwing some dirt over it and then spun in a circle. Drunk reasoning said these things should be instantaneous, right? When you came full circle, there was a blonde haired, black-eyed beauty of a demon examining your ‘buried’ bag.

Your cheeks puffed out a little with a huff, “Not that your meat suit isn’t gorgeous…”

Pausing a moment, you wobbled dangerously as you looked her up and down and then waved your hands a little, “but you’re not the demon I was looking for.”

The blonde raised a brow, motioning to your pouch, “and this isn’t exactly buried but who am I to judge. We don’t always get what we want.”

You stuck you lip out in a pout and shouted at the ground, “Crowley, you devilish bastard, get your ass up here!”

“Do you want to make a deal or not hm? You called. I came. Boss is busy.”

You threw yourself on your butt in the middle of the road, that would be sore in the morning, “Not with you.”

“Ain’t happening, sweet cheeks. Make a deal or scoot off.”

“CROWLEY”

“I said-”

“CROWLEY”

This futile back and forth went on for a bit before the blonde disappeared and a moment later an annoyed looking Crowley popped up, “ You do know I’m no longer a crossroads demon, don’t you, Mouse? I’ve got more important things to… are you drunk?”

You made grabby hands at him like a child asking to be picked up and he sighed, “No. Why did you call? Because you were bored?”

You stumbled to your feet, nearly falling on your face before fully standing, and crossed your arms “They all look the same. You find the right one.”

Crowley was about to ask what you were talking about when he spotted the motels and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You called me… King of Hell. Incredibly busy. Nemesis of your friends in plaid… because you can’t remember where your room is?”

You nodded vigorously, “Only way.”

“And Moose and Squirrel just… allowed this whole…” he paused to gesture to you, “mess to happen?”

“You just gestured to all of me!”

“Correct. Mess.”

“Fine! No love for you!” You raspberried at him and spun to walk off, throwing yourself off balance and on to the floor.

Crowley didn’t move to catch you, simply watching your trajectory and ultimate meeting with the ground before stepping over you to look down, “That was foolish.”

“You could have helped!”

“Then how would you learn?”

You burst into tears, “I just want… bed.”

Crowley rolled his eyes but didn’t want to be blamed if he left you alone in the middle of the road… that could come back to bite him in the ass later. That in mind, he bent and pulled you up from the ground. Using one hand to steady you, the other made for your pockets to look for your room key.

“Don’t get fresh with me, Mr. King,” you gasped and he narrowly dodged a very delayed slap aimed at his cheek, the whole action setting you off balance again. Crowley let out an annoyed sigh, grip tightening on the back of your jacket to hold you in place, like a mother dog with her pup, “Will you stand still? I was only looking for your room key so we can be done with this whole… debacle.”

You burst into a fit of giggles and his eyes narrowed a little, “Where is it?”

A telltale mischevious glint sparked up in your eyes as you pulled your lips in with a hummed laugh before releasing them with pop, “Secretttt.”

The demon’s grip tightened on you a bit more, a soft growl erupting from the back of his throat, “Tell me or I end this whole thing by taking us back to my place and locking you in a broom closet until those to idiots have learned their lesson about letting you go out alone.”

Thinking that over with a slow blink, you let out a whine, “You’re no fun.”

“Under the right circumstances, I think you’d be surprised just how fun I can be, Darling,” he purred, holding his free hand out flat in front of you, “Key.”

The shiver that ran through you when his tone had changed was not lost on him, lips curling slightly up into a rather smug smirk. He cocked an amused brow when you shoved your hand into your shirt and produced the key from your bra, plopping it in his, “And you assumed I was getting fresh when I checked your pockets… how was I ever supposed to find that without some very intimate caresses, hm?”

You yawned in response and he sighed, rolling the key over in his hand to read off the little plastic tag which motel it had come from and what room- both thankfully stamped at bottom. Before he could say anything further, a weight hit his shoulder and he looked over to find your head slumped against it. His grip on your jacket loosened, hand sliding down to your waist instead as he pulled you into him fully, softly grumbling, “Idiots.”

“You’re pretty,” you hummed and then giggled when he jumped a little, having assumed you were asleep. Your fingers clumsily walked their way up his tie before stopping to stroke it, taking interest in the lovely swirled grey and red design and satin feel, “Soft.”

Crowley’s annoyed expression softened a little, thumb of the hand supporting you absentmindedly brushing at your hip, “Yes…thank you, little Mouse.”

You snuggled into his warmth a little, the chill of the night air getting to you now that sleep was threatening to take over, and in a smooth motion he scooped you up, popping to your room at the motel. He dumped you unceremoniously on the bed and you instantly stretched out one arm around a pillow, “Yessss.”

Straightening himself out, he let out a soft hum more to himself, “It brings me joy to know you’ll be feeling all this in the morning, love. I can hope the lesson is learned. Though… I think perhaps your companions should be learning one as well.”

The thought took over his senses for a moment as he focused on devising something just wicked enough that they would think twice about leaving you to your own devices with a drink again. In his plotting state, he failed to notice your hand shoot out before it was too late. You firmly grasped the front of his shirt and tugged with all your might, sending him reeling into the bed with a thud. The King of Hell let out a muffled string of curses but they fell on deaf ears as you snuggled up to him with an arm around his middle contently.

He shifted in your grasp, red in the face and borderline murderous, until he was facing you, “Release me.”

“Mm-mm. Snuggles.”

“Snuggles?” he hissed in disbelief, trying to remove himself from you, “Of all the… I have places to be! King of Hell. You’re lucky I didn’t just leave you in the road. I am not going to stay to-”

Crowley stopped short when you tucked your nose against the underside of his jaw with a quiet hum, “Stay and keep the bad things away.”

“Excuse me?”

You nodded, losing track for a moment as you rubbed against his stubble with a small drunken giggle until he impatiently cleared his throat, “Mouse.”

“Stay.”

“Why?”

“Because I like your faceee.”

“And?” he pressed, only slightly smug for a moment.

Your drunk logic held a ring of truth as you yawned, “And as King of the bad things… you can make sure they stay away. No bad thing zone. For the sleep.”

Taking in all the implications that came with that, he suddenly wondered if that was why you drank in the first place. He reasoned with himself for a moment, coming to the conclusion that you likely wouldn’t remember this in the morning before he lightly slipped his arm around you and pulled you closer, “Nightmares?”

Another nod against his stubble came as an answer and he softly grumbled, “Alright then… As King… I will make sure they all stay away, love. Just for tonight.”

A small relieved sigh escaped you and within seconds your breathing evened out as you slipped into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
